Once in camp Nadine found riders to send the message out that a council would meet immediately. They found Anatoly Sakhalin's jahar ringing the tent of the doctor at a discreet distance. Nadine left the horses and the torch-bearers with them. Closer in, Aleksi sat alone beside twin fires. Nadine led the courier between the fires, for their purifying heat to sear away any untoward contamination she or the man might bring with them, and Aleksi motioned at her to go on. It was late, past midnight and turning toward morning. A woman emerged from the tent, holding a swaddled bundle in one arm.
"Aleksi! Oh, I beg your pardon." It was Joanna Singh, one of Soerensen's assistants. She nodded at Nadine and eyed the courier, who stared at her in astonishment-at her height and her brown skin-before remembering his manners and looking away. "Would you like to go in? Your uncle is inside. Aleksi, can you get some of the riders out there to help? We need a bonfire. Cara wants to cremate the child as soon as possible. You'll need to get Sonia Orzhekov back here, too."
Nadine regarded the tiny bundle with curiosity. Was that the baby? Besselov waited patiently. Since they spoke in Rhuian, he couldn't understand them. "Besselov," said Nadine, "you'll have to wait out here. I'll go get Bakhtiian." She left the courier by the fires and ducked inside. The bells sewn onto the entrance flap sang, warning those inside that she was coming in. "Jo?" That was Dr. Hierakis. "Can you send for-? Oh, Nadine."
Nadine examined the chamber with interest, but it did not look that different from the outer chamber of Tess's tent: some khaja furniture and little else. A glass bottle sat, almost empty, on the table, with a crystal tumbler on either side. A book lay on a cushion, and a second book peeped out from the carved cabinet that stood against the far wall; the polished wood grain looked elegant compared to the plain fabric that made up the walls of this tent. Not a rich tent, by any means, but it was practical, and Nadine supposed that Dr. Hierakis prized practicality above luxury.
Light shone from farther in, from the private inner chamber into which no person but blood family or lover was ever admitted. The curtain between the two rooms had been thrown back. By the glow of two lanterns hanging from the corners of the chamber, Nadine saw a striking tableau.
For some reason, the doctor had shrouded her sleeping chamber with cloth, heaps of it, piled up and spread out everywhere, muting the edges in the room. Within all this fabric, almost seeming to float on it, Tess lay. Her entire left side was covered by gleaming silver silk. Nadine could not see Tess's left hand, but her right hand grasped Ilya's hands where he knelt beside her. He gazed up at her. Dried tears streaked his face. The prince stood down toward Tess's feet with one hand resting on her legs, which were also concealed by a silklike fabric that gleamed white under lantern light. At Tess's head hovered the doctor. Nadine could not see her left hand, but the doctor's right hand lay open on the silvery silk, the contrast making her hand seem almost as dark as David's.
Somehow, with Tess and Bakhtiian framed between the doctor and the prince, the picture held an ominous quality for Nadine, as if they-Tess and Ilya-acted out their parts within boundaries they were themselves not aware of. The prince and the doctor seemed like sinister figures to her, like demons in one of the old tales, working their plots in human guise. She shook herself, driving the thought away. In these dark hours, the interregnum between midnight and dawn, between one day and the next, ghosts touched the mind and whispered secrets that were usually lies. No wonder they wanted to burn the dead child now: better that its spirit fly away to heaven before dawn, better not to let it see the light of day when it had only known night than to risk its lingering here. These hours belonged to Grandmother Night, and it was never wise to draw Grandmother Night's attention to oneself. She was just, but rarely merciful.
The tableau broke. Bakhtiian looked back over his shoulder at Nadine and rose at once. He bent to kiss Tess on either cheek and disengaged his hands from hers.
"I want to see the child, just once, before he goes," she said. Nadine thought her voice surprisingly strong. Ilya nodded. The doctor nodded. Tess shut her eyes and seemed at once to fall back asleep.
Ilya backed three steps away from her, and turned and left the chamber. The prince moved to close the curtain behind him. The inner chamber vanished from their sight.
"What news?" demanded Ilya.
Nadine could see that his temper was uncertain. "I brought a courier. He's waiting outside."
Without replying, Ilya left the tent. He stopped dead at the sight of Joanna Singh holding the shrouded child, and then walked past her over to Gennady Besselov. Singh went back into the tent. Bakhtiian grilled the courier for a long while. After a bit, Zvertkov appeared and listened in on the discussion, asking a few questions himself. When Sonia arrived, she brought Josef Raevsky with her, and the Orzhekov children, who immediately ran off to help build the pyre. The stack of wood rose rapidly. More commanders filtered in, holding their council there, out beyond the awning of Dr. Hierakis's tent while riders and children built the pyre. And there-damn it all anyway- there came Feodor.
"Dina! What's going on? Is it true that Tess Soerensen lost the child? Gods!" He stared at the pyre. "And there's a force riding north? A khaja army?"
"Yes, Feodor. Now will you hush? I'm trying to listen." The discussion ran fast and furious, but for once Nadine could hear her uncle steering it forcefully in one direction. He wanted to ride out now, destroy the Habakar prince's army in the field, and then return to deal with Karkand. For once, others objected and he thrust aside their arguments.
"But the distance-"
"We'll take remounts, of course. We can surprise him. He'll never expect us to meet him so quickly."
"What if there's stiffer resistance from Karkand? What if they've a strong force holed up inside that attacks while the bulk of the army is gone?"
"Zvertkov will remain here to deal with them. He can decoy them into thinking the army is as large as ever. And-" He cast a look around, and it lit on Feodor. "Grekov! You'll remain here as well. Your uncle will be riding in soon, and his force and the auxiliaries can keep them quiet until we return. The siege engineers can keep up their firing. If we destroy much of the inner city without fighting, that will only demoralize them more."
"But-"
"There, Dina," said Feodor in an undertone. "We'll stay in camp. He's half crazed with grief, can't you see that?"
Nadine surveyed her husband with disgust. "I'm not staying in camp. I'm riding with him."
"You can't know that! And anyway, you're married now. You can't put yourself at risk."
"He didn't take away my command. Gods, Feodor, my jahar is still my jahar."
"He left me in charge of the army here. I can order you to stay."
"He didn't leave you in charge of the army! I'm beginning to think you only married me as a ploy to advance your family. Now leave me alone!" She shouldered him aside and pushed through the crowd to stand beside her uncle. Bakhtiian glanced down at her, marking her attendance.
"I'll want your jahar, too, Orzhekov. With Vershinin's troops, my own, and Sakhalin's two thousand, that will give us almost equal numbers, and enough armored to carry the center. Very well, we'll leave as soon as-" But here he stopped suddenly, just broke off, and could not go on. The commanders attending him glanced each at the others, and as one, without further words, they retreated, leaving him alone.
"It's ready," said Aleksi, corning back from the flat field about fifty paces in front of the tent.